3:47 a.m.
by Diddlee
Summary: Rory gets invited to Sophomore Day at Harvard and gets to spend a weekend checking out the college. Trory story.
1. Default Chapter

These characters are not mine and I claim no ownership to the names or descriptions. This story is fantasy based on the established storylines of "Gilmore Girls." 

(Sunday afternoon. Rory has just returned from working on her government project at Chilton. She was now sitting opposite Lorelai at a familiar table in Luke's.)

"You know, when you die, coffee sales will suffer all over the great state of Connecticut. They'll probably have a day of mourning and rename one of the major brands in your honor." Lorelai gives her a childish smirk as she alternates between drinking coffee from her to go cup, and out of the fresh mug on the table. "Well, at least I can look forward to that since they won't be able to bury me in my fabulous black mini as I had always planned."

Rory had been waiting the inevitable question since they sat down. "So... Any particular reason why I may never see that skirt alive again?" 

"Wow Mom. Seven minutes. I believe this may be a new record on the Lorelai patience scale."

"I beg to differ. Remember the 9 minutes it took to ask Ms. Patty about that mysterious man she brought to last year's Christmas Festival. Families in this town celebrated for days by giving each other gifts and lighting candles.." 

"Let me guess. Did this celebration last 8 days and happen to commence with the first day of Hannukah?" Lorelai feigns a perplexed look.

"Actually, things didn't go exactly as we planned on Tristan and Paris' date."

"And what, to liven up the evening they lit my skirt on fire and ran it up the flagpole?"

"Not exactly. You see, Paris somehow found out that it was my idea for Tristan to ask her out. The last I saw of her was her back as she ran away hating me."

"Not exactly the thanks you expect for a job well done. I thought Paris would be thrilled to know that you thought enough of her to have Tristan ask her out."

"Well, yes.. until she thought that I was treating her as a charity case. Now I think I may have jeopardized my only friendship at Chilton. And to top it off, things are even weirder between Tristan and I." She knew the second the last words left her mouth that she had said way too much".

"Wait a second. Did you just say weirder? What's with the 'er'. For you to add the 'er' means that things were already weird between you two. Why do I get the feeling that I'm missing out on a good juicy detail of the story?"

Rory knew that this was something that she should talk to her mother about. Normally she would have rushed home and divulged every detail the night it happened. But not this time. She didn't want to open this can of worms now. Especially when she was feeling this way... "So I heard that Luke may be softening on the no cell phone law."

Lorelai was momentarily confused. "Wait a second. You can't change the subject just when things start to get interesting."

"Sure I can. I was simply invoking Gilmore Amendment #8."

"Refresh my memory. What is #8 again?"

"#8 says that I have the right to change the subject when a topic at hand makes one or both parties involved uncomfortable."

"Well, I'm doing just fine. So spill."

"Well, I'm not. And I believe that I am the uncomfortable party in this instance. I am simply expressing my Gilmore given right."

"Darn. Whose idea was this silly rule anyway?"

"Yours. Right after I established #7 that says I can ask you absolutely anything that I want, and then I asked if Dad was the first person you slept with in high school?

"Did I ever mention that I'm a big fan of #8."

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3:47 a.m. Three minutes later than the last time she looked. Rory flipped over in bed for what seemed like the trillionth time that night. She couldn't quite put her finger on what was keeping her awake. But she knew without a doubt that it somehow related to Tristan. Tristan. The boy she would love to hate. Yet, even for all that he had said to her, and the way he made her feel, she couldn't associate hate with that name. Especially now. She couldn't tell her mother why things between them were weird. She couldn't tell her that Tristan had kissed her. And that she had kissed him back. The thought of kissing Tristan made her feel like she had swallowed a brick. There was this dull feeling in her stomach, not totally unlike the way she felt when she remembered breaking up with Dean. But this feeling was different. It wasn't a feeling of dread, or a feeling nausea. It was more of a feeling of expectation. A feeling of wonder. Wondering what it would be like to kiss him again. Wondering what she would have felt if she didn't stop the kiss when she did. Wondering why she felt the need to kiss him again. No! she couldn't let herself think these thoughts. She had every reason to dislike Tristan. He had treated her like dirt since the first minute she saw him. And she wasn't about to let a few decent conversations change that. She wasn't going to think about what it meant when he had told her he wouldn't continue dating Paris because he liked somebody else. She wouldn't think about the look on his face that indicated that she was the object of his affection. And she definitely wouldn't think about why she was so anxious to see him again in a few hours. No, she wouldn't think such thoughts.... 3:53 a.m....

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3:47 a.m. Tristan stared at the ceiling over his bed. It had been months since he was up this late. At least back then it had been for a good cause. Tonight, he just couldn't sleep. He couldn't get her out of his mind. He couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what was so different about her. O.K., that was a lie. He knew exactly what was different. She was perfect. She was the kind of perfect that made his heart skip a beat when she smiled. The kind of perfect that made his palms sweat when he was near her. The kind of perfect he had been waiting his whole life to see. And she hated him. He only had himself to blame. He had been every kind of horrible to her this year. And he knew why. She intimidated the hell out of him. For the first time, he had fallen for a girl. All of his life, he had been pursued by girls. He never really cared for them, but went out with them because they were there. Rory changed that. For the first time in his life, he felt what he had only seen described in movies or in books. He felt infatuation. And it had taken over. He had only intended to tease her the first few days. It was his duty. Everyone at Chilton expected him to tease the new ones. After a few days, he would lose interest and continue with his life. But not this time. Rory walked into his school completely different than anyone there. She was not rich, not bound by the standards set forth by wealthy parents. She was innocent. Honest. Real. He had fallen hard. He knew each time he upset her that he was crossing a line. A line he would never be able to erase. Yet, he could not stop himself. Now, he was in torment. She would never see him for anything other than the creep he had been. When he told her about liking someone, she may have picked up on his innuendo. But it didn't matter. He did not deserve her. She just broke up with her boyfriend. A boyfriend that had worshipped her, treated her with respect. He did not know the reason for the breakup, but he doubted very much that whatever Dean had done was anything near the evil he himself had done so many times. No, Rory was too smart to get involved with someone like him. Too smart to let herself fall for a hardened, cynical guy like himself. He didn't deserve her. He never would. But that would never stop him from wanting her, wanting to see her face each and every day for the next 2 years. Wanting to lie awake each night dreaming of what it would be like to have her.

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Rory spent the long bus ride Monday morning preparing herself to face Paris. She knew Paris was likely to take a long time to get over this. At least before when she hated her, she had at least spoken to her. Rory doubted that Paris would even want to be in the same room with her for a while. Rory spent so much time focusing on Paris' reaction, that she didn't have time to think about the awkwardness between her and Tristan. However, nothing could have prepared her for facing Tristan. She saw him out of the corner of her eye as he approached her locker. She half expected him to call her Mary and resume the cat and mouse game that had become so familiar. As she turned to say good morning, she was stunned as he walked right past. He had not even bothered to say hello. She decided that silence was far worse than anything she had experienced before. In that moment, she once again realized how truly alone she was at Chilton. She grabbed her books and heard the cold sound of shutting lockers as she headed toward first period.

To be continued...


	2. The Invite

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and I make no claim to their names or descriptions. I am in no way associated with the WB or with Harvard University. This story is fantasy based on the storylines portrayed in 'Gilmore girls'. It is intended for entertainment only.

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Part Two

By the time 6th period rolled around, Rory was certain that she was living in the teenage version of hell. All day long she had experienced the worst feeling she could imagine. Solitude. She had not spoken to a single soul all day. Paris was keeping her distance, for obvious reasons. And Madeline and Louise seemed to side with her in whatever version of events Paris had relayed to them. And Tristan? His actions had completely baffled her. The entire day he had strategically avoided her, arriving just as the bell rang to start each class. At the end of class, he always seemed to disappear. In most situations like this, she would have settled for losing herself in a good book. But she couldn't stand the thought of her only pseudo-friends ignoring her. 

Lost in thought, Rory headed for her locker with her notebook under her right arm. The next thing she knew, she saw her notebook flying through the air landing a good 15 lockers down the hall. She turned to see her assailant, and was shocked to see a boy she did not recognize. He was laughing with his friends and brushed right past her. In any ordinary situation, Rory would have defended herself. But today, she was defeated before she even began. She looked at her locker, and then back at her notebook, this time surprised by what she saw. Tristan had appeared and was having a heated discussion with the perpetrator.

"I said pick it up."

"What's your problem, DuGrey?"

"Right now, you are. Pick it up, Cooper," he said forcefully.

"Whose gonna make me?" Cooper asked in a childish sing-song voice.

"Hey in case you didn't get the memo, they graduated us from second grade 8 years ago."

"And in case you didn't get the memo, chivalry died with our grandparents," he retorted. Cooper was a good 3 inches shorter than Tristan, but he didn't back down from Tristan's glare. 

Tristan knew not to get physical in the hallways at Chilton. The punishment for fighting meant suspension, and a week of accompanying his father to work. His parents may not care much about his life, but they did care if he tarnished the DuGrey name. So he was forced to rely on verbal intimidation, which didn't seem to be going so well at the moment.

Cooper knew this too. He couldn't afford a suspension, for the same reasons Tristan could not. So the staredown continued for about 60 seconds. Then he simply turned and walked away. 

"Pansy" he said, making sure everyone in earshot knew the slam was directed at Tristan.

Tristan let out a little huff of frustration as he kneeled to pick up Rory's notebook. As he turned to head toward her locker, he realized that she had witnessed the whole thing. He had known this before hand, but he got so caught up in the moment, that he seemed to forget she was there. And there she stood with a questioning look on her face. He knew how out of context his actions were considering how hard he had been avoiding her all day. At the moment, he didn't know which was more humiliating. 1, defending her honor in public, or 2, losing a second fight in front of her. He half-heartedly stretched out his hand to return her notebook.

"Here. This is yours."

"Thanks... " she replied hesitantly. "You know, you didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, I know. It was just kinda instinct." He had yet to make eye contact and was trying to find an opening in hallway traffic so that he could move past her. Before he got a chance, she spoke again.

"Tristan, can we talk?" she asked, as if she half expected him to say no.

Tristan finally made eye contact. "Well if this isn't deja vu." The first beginnings of a smile touched his lips. "This notebook must have some magical power that makes you ask that question every time it transfers from my possession to yours."

Rory returned his smile. She felt a warmth return that had been missing all day. "Well you know, I do have a hat, that when you put it on, it makes you start asking, "Do you want fries with that? It's really fun to go through the McDonald's drive through wearing it. The employee working the window really loves that."

Tristan's half smile turned into a full fledged grin. Somehow, Rory was always able to make him smile, when a few seconds ago, he thought that that action would be impossible today.. "Well, I used to have a gun that said 'give me all your money', but that's a different story."

They both stood there smiling for a moment, and then Tristan turned to walk away. "Meet me outside the main doors after school" he said over his shoulder.

Rory watched him turn the corner and then returned to the tasks of her locker. "That boy has more mood swings than a woman in menopause" she said under her breath. She shut her locker, and headed for class.

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Tristan looked at the clock as the minutes dragged on. Since she entered his life, he was a slave to the clock. Time was not what it used to be. Even now, he felt that he was experiencing the longest 50 minutes of his life. But he knew that was not true. That trophy would go to one of the many nights he couldn't sleep... because he was thinking about her. Before, things had been simple. She complicated them. Time was no longer a fixed constant. It was a fluctuating idea. Time went by the quickest when he was near her. When she smiled or unconsciously tucked her hair behind her ear, and he could watch her from across the room Those were the times he didn't want to end. But they always did. And moments without her lasted forever. This particular day had been worse than most. He had been avoiding her all day. In some way, he thought he was protecting her. He knew that she was starting to view their relationship as a friendship. He also knew that he would throw her off with his actions today. That had been his goal. He thought that if she were thinking about him, she wouldn't think about the friendship she had most likely lost with Paris. He was responsible for that. In a signature move that had cursed his existence, he had spoken before he thought. Likely ruining the one friendship Rory had at Chilton. He was playing mind games with her today, not to hurt her, but to keep her preoccupied. It didn't hurt that the thought of her thinking about him sent chills down his spine.

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Rory slung her bookbag over her shoulder and headed for the front of the school. She had spent the entire last period trying to think of something to say to Tristan. When she originally requested they talk, she had intended to ask him about today. But after their brief encounter in the hallway, she thought it best to let sleeping dogs lie. She couldn't quite get the thought out of her head that he had been upset with her. Seeing him smile gave her hope that she had misinterpreted his actions, that there was some other reason for his behavior. That sliver of hope was all that she needed to change her topic of conversation. The difficult part had been coming up with something to say that didn't sound like she had spent last period thinking it up. 

She rehearsed her line one more time, and walked out the door of Chilton. 

Rory felt Tristan's presence before she saw him. She instinctively turned to her left, and there he was. He was sitting on a bench in the courtyard, the same bench where they had their discussion a few days before. He was looking intently at something in his hands. Rory took advantage of his preoccupation to pause in her stride, and just look at him. It amazed her that his looks had gone unnoticed for so long. Granted, they had been masked by snide remarks and arrogance. Now that she was getting to know him, one fact couldn't escape her. He was , in the words of her generation, a hottie. She made a mental note to jot down the concept that guys become more attractive the better you know the real them. Definitely so in this case. 

She quietly approached him, standing silently beside the bench. She wondered how long she could stand there before he noticed.

He noticed her walk up almost immediately. He sensed the game she was playing, and decided to play along. Feigning interest the magazine in his lap, he continued the charade for a few minutes longer. 

"You know, it's not nice to stare," he said without turning from his magazine. When she didn't reply, he looked up. 

She was standing there sticking her tongue out at him. "I bet it's not nice to do this either."

Tristan couldn't help but smile. "I thought that since this bench worked so well for our first conversation, that we might as well put it to use again. I just finished carving 'Rory and Tristan 4-ever' on the seat back."

For a second, Rory's eyes flashed to look, before realizing how naive she looked. "Oh come on Tristan. You could have come up with something a little more believable. Maybe, 'Rory once threatened to kill Tristan here.' Then people would really know that this was our bench"

Tristan admired her wit. For the first time he had met someone who could dish it as well as she could take it. There was no one he would rather be insulted by than Rory Gilmore.

"I wanted to ask if I could borrow your English notes. I haven't gotten a chance to copy the notes from the beginning of class, and with the cumulative final approaching, I need them to get a good grade."

"No problem" Tristan said, invoking his trademark answer. He could tell by the way her eyes danced about that she had intended to ask him something else. Besides that, Rory was such a perfectionist, he knew she had gotten the notes from someone else within days of starting Chilton. She didn't have to request a talk if she just wanted to borrow class notes. He guessed that what she had wanted to talk about was his ignoring her today. But if she wasn't bringing up the subject, he certainly wasn't about to address the issue.

"Great, I'll get them tomorrow. I've got to catch my bus before I'm stranded."

Tristan actually liked the idea of her being stranded. He could be the savior and drive her home. He knew it was too soon for that. She may consider them friends, but she would see right through him if he started offering her rides home. Hell, he had practically declared his intention to court her this afternoon with that knight in shining armor routine. At this rate, Rory would know about his feelings within the week. He wasn't quite ready for that. He knew she was on the rebound, and any chance that he would have with her would have to come when she didn't feel like she was using him. He was willing to wait. Because he knew, without a doubt, she was worth the wait. 

"See you tomorrow." 'In reality' he thought. But he knew he would see her many times before that in his mind. She never left.

Tristan made his way to car that was parked in the back of the student lot. He climbed in, adjusted the mirrors, stalling to prolong the time before he got home. As he looked up to start his car, he realized he had a perfect view of Rory waiting for the bus. His car was hidden from view by the cars of students studying in the library or participating in any of Chilton's extra-curricular activities. 

"God, she's beautiful," he said out loud. Trapped in the familiarity and isolation of his car, he could really admire her. It had taken her all of 2 minutes to immerse herself into her latest novel. He watched her unconsciously perform the mannerisms he liked so much. She tucked her hair behind her ear. She bit her lower lip as she waited to see what lie ahead as she turned the page. 'How is it that every guy in school isn't after her?' he thought to himself. How could they not see the perfection before their very eyes. Why was he so lucky to be able to see it. He smiled unconsciously as he watched her board the bus. He wasn't quite sure why he could see her, when no one else could. And he wasn't anxious in the least to share it. Na. "I'll just keep that to myself," he said as he backed out of his parking space.

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Rory arrived home to an empty house, which wasn't that unusual for the Gilmore house. After today she had secretly hoped Lorelai would have taken off early and met her at the door. She felt some inexplicable need to shout, "Honey, I'm home" and actually have someone there to respond and share the misery of her day over a fresh pot of coffee. She knew without a doubt that she was going to call Lane as soon as she could drop her bag. Well, that and after she had finished making coffee. After a day of silence, she could use some good girl conversation, even if she would do most of the listening.

Rory could tell that Lorelai had been home. She must have taken a late lunch, because the mail was sitting on the table. Immediately Rory's eyes went to the letter on top. Lorelai had propped it up on the table so that Rory would be sure to see it when she entered the kitchen. Being from who it was from, Rory was surprised that she didn't drive to school to hand deliver it during 4th period. Rory knew the symbol by heart, as she would never forget the Harvard emblem.

She dropped her things in the middle of the floor and excitedly grabbed for the letter. In her struggle to open it, she gave herself a half a dozen paper cuts that she would be sure to whine over later. She began to read the letter intently:

_Dear Miss Gilmore,_

We are happy to hear about your interest in our University. We are always thrilled to have students of your caliber show an interest in our school. We hope that you continue to excel in your studies, and look forward to your application. I have enclosed bulletin that I thought may be of interest to you. 

Rory didn't even to look to see who had signed the letter. She didn't care if Bozo the Clown had signed the letter. It was on Harvard Stationary. That was all that mattered. She found the announcement enclosed in the package.

_Sophomore Interest Day. Due to the unusual interest in our University this year, we have decided to host a special open house for high school sophomores. This open house will give prospective applicants the opportunity to see what we are about. Students will have the opportunity to tour the campus, audit a class, and meet fellow students interested in attending our school. This event is by invitation only._

The letter went on to talk about making arrangements to participate in the event, but Rory was too excited to read on. She quickly filled out the response card, making a large mark on the line next to '_I will be attending Sophomore Interest Day.'_ She couldn't believe her luck. 

She didn't hear Lorelai until she was standing almost directly behind her.

"What ya looking at?"

"Mom guess what!"

"You marched around Chilton 7 times, chanting, and all the walls came down."

"I'm going to Harvard," Rory said before Lorelai could finish her walls of Jericho analogy.

"Wow, I knew you were a good student, but accepting a sophomore, without an application. They want you bad."

"They're having an open house to tour the campus and I've been invited. Two weeks from Saturday."

"That's great honey. You realize that that's the day I promised to go with your grandmother to one of those DAR meetings. She promised me that if I went to this one and didn't cut off both my ears, she would never mention the organization again. So if you're looking for an escort, I'm afraid I'm out."

"Oh, that's O.K. The invitation sort of implies that it's a 'prospective student' only thing anyway. I'm sure I can find _something_ there to keep my mind off of missing my mother," Rory had drawn out the word 'something' and faked a look that indicated she didn't think there was anything in the world that could be more exciting than her mother.

"Oh stop," Lorelai responded with her 'valley girl' flip of the hand.

"I've gotta call Lane." Rory grabbed the cordless and headed for the seclusion of her bedroom so she could relay every detail to her best friend about the worst day of her life that had ended in the best way possible.

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Tristan breezed through the front door of his house and bounded up the stairs to his bedroom. 'His house.' That was so not the case. This was just the place where he slept. His parents didn't know when he came or went, nor did they much care. To the outsider, it appeared as though the occupants of this house were complete strangers to one another.

He threw his coat and tie on the first available chair inside his bedroom door. He kicked off his shoes in midstride and his shirt was in his hand before he made it to the bed. He crossed the room and grabbed some workout clothes from his chest of drawers. He had hoped to make it to the exercise room to lift some weights before his mother started her aerobics with Tony, her personal trainer. 'In more ways than one' he thought. 

He doubled back and threw the clothes on the bed, ignoring the fact that they landed on a pile of mail. On principle, his mail greeted him in the bedroom so that he would have as little contact as possible with the other members of the household. Tristan quickly changed his clothes, accidentally knocking the mail to the floor. He reached to gather it up, and noticed the envelope from Harvard. Rory, he thought. Like Pavlov's dog, he was conditioned to think of those as one and the same. He had never met anyone who wanted to go to an Ivy League school on their own free will. He, like most of his classmates would end up there as the previous generations of each family had done. In his world, you didn't just inherit a name. You inherited a tradition.

He quickly broke the seal and pulled the letter from the envelope.

_Dear Mr. DuGrey,_

We are happy to hear about your interest in our University...

"More like my parents' interest." He kept reading and flipped to the enclosed materials. He skimmed the bulletin and threw it to the bed. Immediately, he picked it back up. _Sophomore Interest Day._ One thought crossed his mind. Rory got one of these. He knew that if any student at Chilton had gotten an invitation, it would be Rory Gilmore. Even without a family tradition, Rory had the best possible chance of getting into Harvard. And, it was her dream. 

Tristan rummaged through his bookbag looking for a pen. He was going to this thing. Because she was going. It would give them the chance to be away from school, away from the other classmates. This was perfect he thought. Some of their best moments had happened away from school. Well, at least their best moment, he thought as he fondly remembered their kiss. 

He boldly checked the appropriate box on the response card and ran downstairs to put it with the outgoing mail. He hoped that Rory didn't bring it up in conversation, because he didn't want her to know he was going. And he wasn't about to lie to her. Not after he had started to let her in to see the real Tristan. If all worked out, she would find him in attendance in two weeks. He envisioned her calling out to him on the large campus, happy to see a familiar face. He would have to work on his 'surprised reaction' so that it looked genuine. 

This was going to be a great opportunity for him. And he wasn't referring to his college prospects.

To be continued...

(Part 3 coming soon...)


	3. School days

Disclaimer: You know the deal. Not mine, not associated, blah, blah blah

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Part Three

Rory finally finished revising her packing list for the 4th time that morning. She had read the invitation so quickly the first time, she failed to notice that this day included an overnight stay. The University wanted each student to experience the true college life, so they had arranged for each invitee to spend the night in a dorm room with a college freshman. Rory wasn't too thrilled with this idea, frankly, because the idea of dorm living didn't appeal to her at all. Sharing a room with someone who could be your mortal enemy was not something she looked forward to.

She shoved the list into her backpack and stood to board the arriving bus, and in that moment, she saw him. From her stance at the bus stop, she had a clear view of him crossing the street. In the weeks since their breakup, they had barely spoken to each other. They exchanged the usual pleasantries, but not in a friendly manner. It was as if they were simply acquaintances who couldn't be bothered to engage in actual conversation. It was difficult for Rory to grasp, that this boy who once told her he loved her, now couldn't look her in the eye. 

What little information Rory knew about Dean's life, came from her daily updates with Lane. In exchange for daily updates on Henry, Rory learned little tidbits of Dean's life. She wasn't quite sure if these updates were helping or hindering the "getting over" process. She knew that Dean had not dated since their breakup. She hardly expected that he would. He wasn't the type of guy that easily got over someone. Especially someone he thought he loved. She knew at some point, he was going to move on. And in a way, she was looking forward to being over him. She just hoped it would happen soon.

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Tristan pulled into his usual parking spot in the student lot that Friday morning. It was finally here. Tomorrow was the Sophomore Interest day at Harvard. The two weeks since he received the invitation seemed to drag on forever. But it was finally here. His plan to surprise Rory had fallen apart the second he saw her. She had been practically skipping down the halls eager to share her news. Her grin was so infectious he had made the mistake of asking her what made her so happy. And in keeping the vow he made to himself, he confessed that he too was going.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Rory had actually seemed excited that he was going. Tristan had done his research, and he knew that only a handful of Chilton students were going this weekend. Paris, like the rest of his classmates, had used family money and influence to arrange her own private visit. In most other situations, this would have been the route he chose too. But not this time. Tristan cherished the thought that he would be the only friendly face that weekend.

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Tristan grabbed his English book from his locker, being careful not to displace the stack. He had long ago perfected the movement so that all the books wouldn't come crashing out of his locker onto his feet. He was not a neat freak, to say the least, and the mountain of books in his locker had become somewhat of an art form.

"Hey Tristan." The sound of his name on her lips always gave him goose bumps.

Tristan shut his locker and turned to face her. 

"Hey Rory," he said with a smile. Over the past few weeks, things had become less awkward between the two. Rory was still dealing with the aftermath of the Tristan/Paris date. And he knew quite well, that she hadn't mended things with Paris, Madeline, or Louise. So in a way, he was her only friend.

"Did you finish that assignment for English?" He knew the answer without even asking. Rory always finished her assignments early.

"Nope. I've still got about 3 more pages to go before it's done."

Tristan gave her a doubting look. "Truth." It was more of a command than a question. It was never really spoken out loud, but over the past few weeks, he and Rory had come to an unspoken agreement to be honest with one another. He felt that he owed her that much. On the night of the party, they had both confessed things to each other, and it was difficult to revert from honesty once they had taken that step.

"Okay, okay. I finished it Tuesday night. But I haven't revised it yet, so technically it's not finished." 

Tristan gave her a knowing grin as they turned the corner, heading for English class.

"So, are you ready for tomorrow?" Rory asked. 

"I guess so. I'm not really looking forward to spending the night with some guy who volunteered just to get extra credit in one of his classes. But hey, anything that gets me away from my parents can't be all bad"

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Well, about the roommate thing. I actually don't mind being around my mom. I know it's going to be hard for her in a few years when I do move out. Tomorrow night will be like our trial separation. Other than spending the night a Lane's and my grandparents, she and I haven't really spent that many nights apart."

"You know, I have never met anyone who gets along with their mother like you do. Most people I know hate their parents. It's really cool that you guys get along." Tristan actually was envious of Rory's relationship with her mother. The only parenting skills his parents had involved a checkbook. He was glad that they mostly stayed out of his life. Yet, he missed the opportunity to be close to them.

They walked into their classroom and took their seats, just as the bell was ringing. Rory busied herself arranging her backpack and briefly looked in Paris' direction. Paris was staring down at her desk, but she couldn't hide the expression on her face. Rory knew that Paris was still angry, and it probably didn't help seeing her walk in with Tristan. Though, since the whole ordeal, Rory's choices for friends had narrowed considerably. 

"This is going to be a long 2 years" Rory thought to herself.

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Rory stepped off the bus onto the Harvard campus at exactly 8:40. She looked around her at the ancient architect of the buildings. She couldn't put her finger on the reason, but something about those buildings signaled class and prestige. She admired the scenery, and pictured herself walking amongst those buildings on her way to class. Yes, this was definitely where she was meant to be.

Her information packet said that she was to report to Hilton Hall by 9 a.m. She had memorized the campus map on the bus ride, and she knew that she had to start walking then to make it on time.

The campus was quite bare for a Saturday morning. Due to the upcoming finals, most students were spending every free minute in the library or other conducive study grounds. Rory enjoyed the quiet walk through campus. She arrived at the back door to the auditorium a few minutes to 9. She knew from her obsessive review of all Harvard materials, this was the largest lecture hall on campus. But nothing would have prepared her for the size of that room. There were about 500 seats, half of which were occupied by fellow invitees. Rory took a deep breath, preparing herself for the day that lie ahead, weaved her way through the aisles, finally taking a seat in the second row. She glanced around the room looking for Tristan, but had no luck finding him in that sea of faces.

Rory settled into her seat and pulled out her current novel. She had been careful to pack 2 for this trip, in case things didn't go well in the dorms that night.

At exactly 9 o'clock, a representative from the admissions office began the program. Rory listened intently as he gave a brief history of the University and the prestige of being invited to this event. He then went on to explain the schedule for the next 24 hours. Rory was careful to jot down highlights on her copy of the schedule. Nearing the end of his speech, the representative explained that the students were going to be broken up into groups of 20 to make the tours more personal. The groups were quickly divided up based on their current seating arrangements and each group followed their appointed guide. When the time came, Rory's group stood and exited the auditorium beginning their Harvard experience.

__________________________________________________________________

By about 1 o'clock, Rory had taken in hours of information. It didn't take her long to decide that this place definitely could not be described in a brochure. No words could describe the atmosphere of the University. That morning she had attended an hour lecture on Medieval history. Rory actually enjoyed the class, especially the fact that it was taught by a professor and not a grad student. At most other colleges, the professor's name appeared in the course guidebook and on the syllabus, but they never stepped foot into a lecture hall. Some students actually graduated from schools without ever having sat through a lecture by a professor.

She was really beginning to feel at home here. She had imagined this place many times in her head. Being on campus actually made her feel like it was a real place. It wasn't just the fantasyland she had created.

Rory's group made their way to a dining hall on campus a few minutes later. The dining hall oddly reminded her of Chilton. But then again, how many variations can there be to a place that's sole purpose is to feed thousands of students each day. Rory took a place at the end of a line, and reached for her book. Gazing at the number of students in line and the rate at which it was moving, she figured she could get in at least 3 chapters before she got her food. 

"What's wrong, are we not interesting enough for you?" Rory looked up the guy that was standing in front of her. He was another sophomore who had been in her group. She knew this because she had seen him giving her the eye all day. She also knew that his name was Brent. This she knew because she had heard him methodically hit on every girl in their group.

"Actually, I just like reading." Rory responded. She was not in the mood to get in an argument, especially with someone she didn't know.

"Well, why don't you put that down and look at me. I can be very interesting, " he retorted rather snidely.

"No thanks, I think I'll stick with my book," Rory said without looking up.

"Oh come on. Are you embarrassed that a cute boy is talking to you. Don't know quite how to act," he taunted.

Rory continued reading, trying to ignore his comments.

__________________________________________________________________

Tristan entered the cafeteria and immediately began searching for Rory. He watched her group come in here a few minutes ago. To say that he had been disappointed with the day was an understatement. When he first signed the response care, he envisioned a day spent walking the campus with Rory. Instead, he had spent the day touring the campus with a group of girls from Massachusetts. He found out early that they knew each other well, and they shared many common interests. And that day, their common interest was him. 

Normally, he would have been flattered that these beautiful girls were after him. He probably would have flirted along with them. But he had spent the morning distractedly looking for Rory. Each time a group passed his, he would search out every face, hoping to see the one that made his heart melt. And finally he had found her.

She was standing in the food line, trying to avoid some guy who was obviously trying to get to her. Tristan knew the scene well. He had lived it so many times. He watched her squirm and cast her evil stare at boy. The same evil eye that he had been the recipient of not too long ago. As before, he instinctively wanted to rush to protect her, but he held himself back. Ironically, he had been in this position quite frequently lately. As he resisted the urge to stroll over and deck the guy, he thought of another plan. A plan that would probably have the same desired effect, but this one was more appealing. 

_________________________________________________________

"You know they have a word for girls like you. It's called virgin." 

"And they have a word for boys like you. It's called slimeball," Rory quickly retorted. She had been having this argument with this guy for the last 5 minutes. Like most guys her age, he immediately began attacking her character when she didn't fall at his feet. He had insulted her, and hit on her trying to get some reaction. She had tried ignoring him, and when that didn't work, she was matching him comment for comment. No matter what she did, she couldn't get him to leave her alone. What was it about her that invited every jerk in the tri-state area to come and pick on her. Did she have some sign on her back that said, "Annoy me please."?

"You know you can just tell me. You find me incredibly attractive and you can't wait for me to ask you out. So tell me, when I kiss you, will it be your first?" He had worked his way into her personal space and prided himself on the fact that she kept stepping away.

Before Rory could reply, she felt someone behind her.

Tristan silently approached her from behind, slowly wrapping his arms around Rory's waist, and pulled her to him. He tilted his head ever so slightly and gently kissed her neck, just below the earlobe. "Hey beautiful," he said in a husky voice.

Rory stiffened at his touch. She was shocked by his actions and her first thought was to pull away. Her second thought was that she was going to deck him. She turned her face to his and met his gaze. The second their eyes met, she forgot all that was around her. It took her several silent moments to recover from those blue eyes. Slowly as her senses returned, she realized what he was doing. She smiled an understanding of his unspoken intentions and relaxed in his embrace. 

"Hey, I missed you," she said quietly.

Tristan returned her smile, relieved that she had caught on to his game. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, was I interrupting something," Tristan asked innocently, looking at the guy in front of Rory.

"Oh no. This Casanova was just telling me how lucky I should be that he would want to talk to me. He was expounding on how attractive he finds himself, but honestly I just don't see it," Rory said in Tristan's direction.

Tristan responded without taking his eyes from Rory's. "Yeah, personally, I think his eyes are too close together. Probably wouldn't hurt if he got himself a closet instead of storing his clothes on the floor."

Brent quickly got the idea, and retreated before either of them could insult him further.

For a moment, Tristan forgot that he was putting on a show, and the audience had just left. He stood there enjoying the moment for a few seconds, and reluctantly let her go.

Rory felt an inexplicable tinge of disappointment as Tristan relinquished his hold. Her smile had been real, and she was beginning to forget that the whole encounter was not. Her smile faded a bit as she took a step back. 

"Thank you for that," she said softly. "You know, you seem to be coming to my rescue a lot lately. I'm starting to feel like one of those romantic heroines who can't defend herself in the simplest battles."

"Honestly, I didn't do that for you. I did that for me."

Rory gave him a questioning look as he paused in his explanation.

"You see, I have a lot of making up to do. A few weeks ago, I was that guy. Now I have a heck of a task trying to make up for that." Tristan explained. "In 10 years, when you look back on high school, I want you to remember me in this role, not in the other."

Rory was touched by his explanation. A few weeks ago, she never thought that she would ever have a decent conversation with Tristan DuGrey. Nor could she imagine forgiving him for the way he treated her. She was beginning to see the side of Tristan that Paris loved. This Tristan was kind, protective, and completely capable of winning her heart. 

"We've been over this. You apologized, I accepted, end of story. As long as you don't hop the fence back to the dark side, we'll be okay."

They stood there in silence for a few moments. Then Rory changed the subject. "So, how do you like this place? Is it everything you imagined?"

Tristan followed her lead and began discussing the pros and cons of the University. He was still tingling inside from touching her, but he was trying not to let it show. He decided that if he ever had to chose, this way of defending her won. Hands down.

________________________________________________________________________

The day dragged on for Tristan, as he spent a great deal of time avoiding the advances of the Massachusetts girls. He hadn't seen Rory since lunch, and he doubted that he would see her the rest of the stay. This was definitely not going according to his plan. 

Tristan shifted in his seat, leaning against the armrest of the sofa with his legs stretched out before him. It was about 10 p.m. He had retreated here to the lobby of the dorm soon after arriving. As he had expected, the freshman he was matched up with was definitely not the pride and joy of the University. He hadn't even answered the door when Tristan knocked. After waiting in the hallway for 20 minutes, the guy finally showed, with his girlfriend. He allowed Tristan enough time to drop off his bags before shutting the door in his face. 

And so this is where he ended up. Tristan paused in thought, chewing the end of the pen in his hand, and scribbled in his notebook.

____________________________________________________________________

Rory tucked her book under her arm and went in search of the stairway. She had met her roommate, and decided that they would best get along after she was asleep. In their brief encounter, the girl opened the door, turned her back, and returned to her computer. She hadn't even cleared enough floor space for Rory to put down her things. "Don't touch anything." Rory tripped over the piles of clothes and quickly went in search of a quiet place to read.

Rory managed to find her way to the lobby, and entered through the heavy doors. There were a few dedicated students studying for the upcoming finals in a corner of the room. But mostly, it was silent.

She started in the general direction of the sofas, which were arranged near the window and across from a baby grand piano. She smiled when she saw the piano. She knew she was now classically conditioned to remember kissing Tristan every time she saw one. As she was making her way across the room, she saw Tristan sitting on the end of one of the sofas. He was busy writing in a notebook that somewhat resembled a journal. She couldn't deny the fact that she was thrilled he was there. She had missed their banter that day. More importantly, she had missed his companionship.

She strolled up behind him and looked over his shoulder. He was lost in thought as he jotted on the pages. Rory read a few lines, and was astonished by what she read. He was writing a poem. The title was one word. "She". "She stops my heart with her smile. Her laughter touches my soul..."

Rory took a moment to collect her thoughts. "What's that?", she asked.

Tristan was startled by her voice and quickly closed his notebook as he twirled around to face her. "Nothing, uh I was just working on that essay for Government."

Rory grinned at him. "Truth," she commanded mimicking his actions from the day before.

Tristan hesitated. He didn't want to tell her the truth. He tried to think of something that would sound reasonable, but decided against it. "Promise you won't laugh." He waited for her to nod in agreement. "I was writing a poem. It's a habit I have. Not many people know that about me. I fell in love with poetry in Jr. High and it's become somewhat of an obsession. Now you know one of my deep dark secrets."

Laughter was the farthest thing from Rory's mind. She couldn't believe that Tristan had a secret passion for poetry. There was something sweet, and innocent about it. She had tried numerous times to write poetry, but it always came out wrong. She was impressed with what she had read so far, and quickly ascertained that Tristan was probably very good at it.

"It'll be our secret," Rory said. Then she winked at him.

Tristan let out a short laugh, somewhat relieved that she wasn't going to tease him about it. "What brings you down here?"

"My roommate couldn't be bothered to let me stay up there. I thought I'd get in some reading while I pray she falls asleep. I don't think she can shoot daggers at me while she's sleeping."

"My roommie is sharing his room with his girlfriend as we speak. Somehow I don't think they're going to be getting much sleep tonight. I'm probably just going to crash here."

Rory took a seat on the opposite side of the sofa. She had taken the time to change into a pair of flannel checked pants and a t-shirt. Tristan hid a smile. She could even make that look gorgeous. 

Rory gazed out the window in front of the sofa. "Wow, this campus is really pretty at night," she said, thinking out loud.

Tristan thought for a second. "Here's a crazy idea, let's go for a walk. Really get to see the campus as it's meant to be."

Rory gaped at him. "I'm in my pajamas."

"So. There's not going to be anyone out there. Unless you're afraid you'll run into that guy from lunch and you want to look your best?"

"We don't have a way back in. They lock the doors at 11, and then we'd be stuck outside all night."

"No we wouldn't. I have a key," Tristan said, as if it were completely natural that he would have a key to a Harvard dorm.

"What did you steal that off your roommate while he was stripping his clothes for his girlfriend."

"My brother, Taylor, gave it to me. He lived here his freshman year. He made a copy of the key for me in case I needed to come visit him, you know if my parents were fighting. I remembered it the other day and just brought it with me."

"You have a brother?," Rory asked in disbelief. 

"Three actually. I'm the youngest. Brendan's the oldest, he's 33, then there's Ethan, who's 28, and Taylor's 24. I was an accident."

"Wow, I never knew you had siblings. No offense, but I always thought that based on your previous 'holier than thou' attitude, you were an only child."

Tristan accepted the comment. It was true after all. "Well, I pretty much am an only child. Ethan moved out when I was in kindergarten, and Taylor left when I was 10. I never lived in the same house as Brendan."

Rory absorbed this information with interest. She realized how little she really knew about Tristan . She had never considered the possibility that Tristan had family. She liked the thought of 4 DuGrey brothers. She could almost imagine the testosterone packed DuGrey household, filled with discarded athletic equipment and trophy wife girlfriends. His parents must have been fighting off women for decades. 

"Now you're off the subject," Tristan said breaking into her thoughts. "Let's drop our books at the desk and we're going for a walk." He put up a hand to wave off her protests. "I'm not taking no for an answer. This is your dream and you're going to get the whole experience."

"Did anyone ever tell you you were stubborn?"

"Goes with the territory." He grabbed her elbow and pulled her toward the desk. "When I get my mind set on something, nothing can change it."

Rory was about to learn the full meaning of that statement.

__________________________________________________________________

"Chocolate or Vanilla?", Rory asked. They had been walking for the past 45 minutes and had entered into round 34 of this game Tristan had dubbed "Either/Or". 

"Depends" he responded.

"What do you mean it depends? It's a simple question."

"It depends on whether your talking about pudding or ice cream. If your talking about pudding, I would say chocolate. But if you're talking about ice cream, vanilla wins, no contest."

"You've thought this through I see." Rory smiled for the hundredth time that night. She couldn't remember the last time she had had such a good time. Something about being with Tristan relaxed her. The first few times she went anywhere with Dean, she could barely speak. She had constantly analyzed everything she was about to say so that she didn't come across sounding like an idiot. She didn't have to do that with Tristan. It just came easy to her. 

Not that she and Tristan were on a date or anything, she quickly reminded herself. 

Tristan watched her out of the corner of her eye. She was smiling again. God how he loved to see her smile. And he liked being the one that put that smile there. They had talked about everything that night. He had never known this much about any girl before. Usually he barely made it past her name before they were making out in the back of his car. She intrigued him. With each fact he learned, she became more of a mystery. And with each fact, he was falling harder. 

Rory shivered a bit. It was a brisk spring night, and she was only in a t-shirt. Tristan saw this and immediately began to remove the fleece he was wearing. Before he could offer it to her, she was already refusing it.

"I'm not taking your shirt," she said flatly.

"Talk about stubborn. Your taking the shirt. I have a long sleeve shirt on anyway. I'm not going to have you freezing to death. I don't want to have to carry you all the way back to the dorm. I'm not creative enough to make up some story when the police stop me carrying your unconscious body through the woods."

Rory reluctantly took the fleece. She put her arms through first and pulled it over her head. The sleeves covered her hands and it came almost to her knees. She had forgotten how much taller he was than her. As soon as she put it on, she could smell him on it. She couldn't pinpoint what it was. It just smelled like him. And it smelled wonderful.

Tristan looked at her swimming in his shirt. There was something so intimate with that picture. In movies, they always show the guy offering the girl his coat. There's something unspoken in that gesture that says more than he could put into words. He decided that that shirt was definitely his favorite. 

___________________________________________________________

About 20 minutes later, they found themselves seated near the center of campus. The walk from the dorm to this spot should normally take 15 minutes, but they had both lost track of time. Distracted by their conversation, they had crossed and recrossed their path several times. And now they were seated on benches, under the cover of an old gazebo.

"I am sixteen, going on seventeen..." Rory began to hum the song from the Sound of Music.

"If your expecting me to join in this little duet, you don't know me as well as you think."

"Oh, Tristan," she chided. "How often do you find yourself out on a beautiful night like tonight, in a gazebo."

"Hopefully quite often," he responded.

Rory gave him a puzzled look. "Do you have a thing for the octagonal shape?," she jested.

"No. I just have a thing for this particular one."

Rory continued to look at him in bewilderment.

"Come on Rory. I thought you knew every piece of history about this campus. Please tell me you know the legend of this gazebo."

"I know everything about the courses and professors, but buildings never struck my fancy. Please enlighten me," she requested in her best impersonation of a proper lady.

"Well I don't know all the details but it goes something like this. When the University first allowed girls to come here, they all lived in one dorm across campus. It was commonly known as the 'Virgin Vault'. In a promise to each girl's parents, the University ensured that each girl would not be tainted by the men on campus. So they set a midnight curfew. The only excuse for being out past midnight was if she was with her parents. Any violation of the curfew resulted in punishments that varied from increased chores to expulsion, based on the severity of the offense. I mean, we're talking about the days of chaperoned courting. Anyway, the legend says that in order for a girl to be a true coed, she must be kissed at this gazebo for the duration of the 12 tolls of the campus clock. If she's here being kissed, there's not a chance she would make it back to her dorm by curfew. It's an old tradition but most students here still observe it."

"Wow, that sounds so romantic. I can't wait to be kissed here," she said before thinking. 

Their eyes darted toward each other in an awkward moment. After a few minutes of silence, Rory spoke first.

"I liked your poem."

Tristan's gaze returned to her face. "You read that?" he asked embarrassed.

"It was very sweet. Totally unTristanlike," she said admiringly.

"Thank you. Your opinion means a lot to me." 

Rory bore the weight of that confession. "Is it about anyone in particular, or is it abstract?"

"There's a real subject."

"The girl you like, right?", she asked expectantly. 

Tristan didn't answer her.

"She must really be something," Rory thought aloud.

"She is," he replied somberly.

"Tell me about her." Deep down, Rory was hoping he would turn to her and tell her it was her. She had been fighting her feelings for Tristan for some time now. For the first time in her life, she was keeping this from Lane, and from her mother. 

"She's stunning. She's intelligent. She makes me do things I never would do. I can't control myself when she's near. She has a wit to match my own. And she invades my mind every waking moment, and most non-waking ones too."

Rory's hopes sank the moment he mentioned the girl was stunning. Compared to all the girls Tristan had dated, she was dowdy. She didn't wear the trendy clothes, nor did she wear any makeup. Most girls he dated looked like they walked off the runway. She looked like she had walked through Goodwill. Whoever this girl was, she had to be magnificent.

"Sounds like I would approve," Rory said half-heartedly.

"I think you would," he replied. He noticed a distinct change in her mood. Did he have to spell it out for her.

"Well, why haven't you asked her out already. It's not like you to be shy or anything."

"I'm waiting for the right moment. She's not ready yet. And I'm not ready to push her."

"Why's the moment not right?", Rory inquired.

Tristan was quickly tiring of holding back his feelings. He tried to be as obvious as possible without mentioning her name. "Well, ever since I've known her, I've been the biggest jerk. I picked on her, tried to pick a fight with her boyfriend. She's too good for me. We just started to become friends and I don't want to lose that by making a move. So I'm waiting until she's ready."

Rory absorbed each word he said. With every statement, the butterflies built in her stomach. Could it be possible that he was talking about her? The chance had presented itself, and she was not going to let it pass her by. Her whole life she had played by the rules, played it safe. Everything in her head told her to let it go. But everything in her heart told her to take a chance. So she took that chance. It came out in two simple words.

She said it so softly the first time, Tristan didn't even realize she had spoken. He was tracing circles in the dust that had gathered on the bench beside him. She spoke a little bolder the second time, and he froze at her words.

"I'm ready."

As he let the words sink in, he slowly turned to face her. She was sitting on a bench directly across from the one he was on. The moonlight was casting shadows through the tiny space, and he couldn't see her face. 

In a swift movement, he crossed the distance between them and gently sat beside her. He searched her eyes for confirmation of the words she had just spoken. It was there.

A feeling rushed through Tristan's body that was so foreign, yet so right. He kept his eyes fixed on hers as her focus shifted from his stare, to her feet, and back. He reached his hand up and gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. 

  
"Do I make you nervous?" he asked softly, reliving a former moment, now making it intimate.

"Yes, very much." Rory watched a smile touch his lips, and reflected it with her own.

"Good. As long as we're agreed" he smiled back.

He leaned in and softly kissed her lips. As he did, he felt that same spark that ignited the first time their lips met. He kissed her for a few seconds and then reluctantly pulled away.

The tenderness of his kiss sent chills through her body. It was the kind of kiss she felt all the way down to her toes. As quickly as it started, it was over. He was moving slowly, not pushing her any faster than she was ready to go. The sweetness of that gesture confirmed what she had known all along. She had fallen for Tristan DuGrey.

He looked into her eyes as a childish grin appeared on her face. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"I was thinking that that was a good kiss. And I was thinking that you can do better than that."

Her teasing was the only invitation he needed. He leaned in to kiss her again, this time she met him halfway. He kissed her again, and she kissed back. It wasn't the type of kiss that would light a room on fire, but it was the type that would be remembered long after it was over. Not so much for the passion, but for the person who was sharing it.

Pulling away the second time was even more difficult that the first. Knowing that there would be more to follow made the separation bearable.

He stood silently and extended his hand to her. She reached out and met his hand with her own, covered by the sleeve of his borrowed shirt. With his free hand, he pushed back the fleece and took her hand in his, lacing his first two fingers around the last two of hers.

The way he was holding her hand was decidedly sexier than any other way it could be done. Not possessing, but as if she were gracing him with her touch.

He led her across the floor and down the steps to the path. He glanced at his watch and in the clarity of the moment, he realized that the bells he heard when they were kissing weren't just in his head.

"Congratulations Rory Gilmore. You just became a true college coed."

**************The End***********


End file.
